


love on our hands

by lettertotheworld



Series: see our reflections [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, spoilers for 120 ish, uh oh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28152345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettertotheworld/pseuds/lettertotheworld
Summary: She is still learning how to accept the good things.Something comforting: Beau is also still learning how to accept the good things, and they are doing this together.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Series: see our reflections [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954642
Comments: 5
Kudos: 143





	love on our hands

**Author's Note:**

> me: im not gonna do it. im not  
> me: does it  
> LISTEN listen i held out for as long as i could with this mirror business. im done being NICE let them bang.

They’ve gotten it all wrong, and Yasha is thrilled about it. She’s not actually sure how any of this is _supposed_ to happen, but she’s fairly certain skipping the date and going straight to bed is…the opposite of standard.

She didn’t know how she’d feel after, hadn’t known it could feel anything like this. She’d expected guilt, a bit of grief, but this is…

This is Beau curling into her side in sleep, a hand finding Yasha’s arm, anything to keep her close. This is Yasha staring at her own reflection in the mirror above Beau’s bed, admiring how the sheets drape to hide all the ways they’re tangled together. This is Yasha _smiling_ at her own reflection, shifting her weight with the intention of waking Beau so Beau can feel what she’s feeling.

She wonders what will change, if anything. She’s wanted for so long, has _craved_ , and it’s what she’s become, all she’s made of. A deep longing for Beau. And she’s not even close to satisfied. She’s pleased, content to have gotten a taste, but she’s still starving.

It had all happened so naturally, Yasha almost hadn’t realized. A bottle of wine, two bottles of wine. Talk of near-death and potential death, and Yasha hadn’t wanted it to be hurried or rushed. She has never wanted _we’re about to die, so let’s fuck about it_ with Beau, has never wanted anything other than entirely organic circumstance. But these things happen, the way one thing leads to the other, and everything becomes so intertwined and connected that a simple date night alters itself into a whole experience.

So, yes, they _might_ die. Bad things _might_ happen. But Yasha has spent the better part of two years denying herself things because she thought it was what she deserved. She won’t keep denying Beau, won’t let her fizzle out into some out of reach concept that she’s not worthy of. Her feelings are complex, and she is still learning how to accept the good things.

Something comforting: Beau is also still learning how to accept the good things, and they are doing this together.

Beau shifts then, stirs in her sleep a bit, and Yasha watches her through the mirror, then looks at her directly where Beau has her head right at Yasha’s shoulder. Beau blinks her eyes open once, lets them drift shut again with a smile on her face as she remembers where she is.

“Hey,” Beau says groggily.

“Hey,” Yasha says, and how’s that for a second beginning.

“You smell good,” Beau mumbles into Yasha’s shoulder, presses a kiss to the skin there, and Yasha’s heart swells as Beau moves higher, eyes still closed as her lips roam Yasha’s throat, her cheek, until she finds her mouth.

Yasha kisses her, kisses her, and it makes her stomach clench, reminds her of last night, every touch and every noise. When they finally break apart, Yasha runs her hand through Beau’s free hair, cradles the back of her head. And Beau laughs. So, Yasha laughs, and it’s small, slight, and it passes quickly, but it is a moment.

“Sorry for ruining everything,” she tells Beau, and Beau’s brows pinch into a frown.

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you like that,” Yasha says. “You told me you wanted to do this the right way.”

“Uh, I kissed _you_ first,” Beau argues, and Yasha shakes her head, tries to sift through wine addled thoughts. “Yes, I did. Because we were talking about one-night stands, and you lost.”

Oh.

Oh, it all comes rushing back to her, and Beau broke _her own rule._ It would be hilarious if the memory didn’t make her chest ache with want.

She remembers a conversation about one-night stands. She remembers Beau turning it into a competition, and it’s not Yasha’s thing. She doesn’t _do_ that, hasn’t done that, and Beau had said if she’d known, then she would have offered a long time ago. Yasha had told her that she could still offer. And Beau had kissed her.

It makes her wonder if that’s all this is, thinking back on it. They hadn’t talked about it, hadn’t needed to in the clash of lips and teeth and tongue and skin.

“I liked the date,” Yasha says, because they had an agreement. If they weren’t into it, then it never happened, and nothing has to change, and they can still be friends.

“Me, too,” Beau says, and Yasha nearly breathes a sigh of relief. “Is this…I mean, it’s not going to change? You know, when we’re not stuck in a frozen wasteland?”

The apprehension in Beau’s tone makes Yasha pull her closer, lets Beau’s head settle onto her chest.

“You mean when we’re back home?” she asks, feels Beau nod against her. “No. No, of course it’s not.”

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” Beau tells her. “That’s stupid to say, but it’s true.”

Yasha feels a grin pull at her lips.

“That’s not stupid,” she promises. “I know the feeling.”

She knows the feeling _well_ , remembers it burning her up inside for months, and now they are here because Yasha decided to put some words onto a piece of paper.

In the beginning, she hadn’t thought they’d ever get anywhere close to this. Not with her leaving all the time in the middle of storms and running Beau through with her sword in a cathedral. She wonders how strong Beau’s feelings were at that point, wonders if they were as strong as her own.

“I still want it,” Yasha says, lets go of whatever painful memories still linger. She’s in Beau’s bed with Beau in her arms, and there’s no room here for anything else.

Beau exhales softly, a dark sort of chuckle, and desire coils tightly around Yasha as she thinks about the last time she’d heard that noise. With Beau’s head between her thighs as she alternates between watching her and watching the mirror.

The thigh Beau has between Yasha’s legs presses more firmly against her, makes Yasha’s breath catch.

“Right now?” Beau asks, lifts her head from Yasha’s chest, and Yasha nods, pulls Beau down into another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! i hope you enjoyed <3 im @nydoorinn on twitter and tumblr


End file.
